The Bad Boy Is Mickey

Prologue

Prologue

Leah

I never thought I'd find myself fighting with Mickey Mouse of all people. Or mice, you know what I mean. Then again, I never thought that Tatum Mitchell, the town's "bad boy", would be the person underneath the famous costume at Disneyland, either. But of course, me being a klutz and the most unlucky person on planet earth, I discovered both in the same day.

•••

"Leah..... Saunders? Is there a Leah Saunders in this class?" I raise my head a bit and give the teacher a wave, mentally sighing at the fact that Mrs. Kole, my first period art teacher for going on three years now, didn't remember me.

Of course she doesn't remember you Leah, you haven't said a word since you've been here. I chastise myself in my head, not wanting to seem crazy for talking to myself out loud. Why it still bothers me, I haven't a clue. It's not like I try to be noticed, so why would anyone pay me any attention? I'm the resident nobody, anyway. At least, if I were to have a title, that'd be it.

•••

When the bell rings signaling the end of the school day, I let out a sigh. Knowing that I won't have to see any of my fellow peers until Monday gives me a rather pathetic sense of relief. My mood brightens as I remember that my entire family is taking a trip to Disneyland this weekend. Although it's only about thirty minutes away and we go almost every other weekend, my little sister insisted that we go for her ninth birthday. I wasn't complaining, seeing how no normal seventeen year old willingly spends their weekend at Disneyland, when they could be having a far better time at a local teen party.

•••

We've been here for nine hours now, and I'm walking by myself. I'm alone, tired, my phone's dead, and I can't find my parents. I'm also scared shitless because it's almost five o'clock and I'm getting hungry. My eyes are drooping from exhaustion and I don't notice that I'm about to walk right into someone. Apparently, neither does the other person because the next thing I know, I'm sprawled rather ungracefully on the ground, tangled up with another person, and groaning like a dying walrus. I'm in so much pain that I didn't even notice the Mickey Mouse head roll past me, or the familiar face that hovers over mine seconds later. I scrunch my nose as I try to remember why this face is so familiar to me. It's kind of hard to tell who someone is when their face is upside down though, so I don't know who I'm looking at until they move to help me up. When it finally registers in my head who exactly I was looking at, I back away, quick as lightning. With a gasp, I let the two syllables that will later ruin me slip out of my mouth.

"Tatum?!"